


to touch your wounds

by Astyanassa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astyanassa/pseuds/Astyanassa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.  -- Henri Nouwen</p>
<p>Written as comment fic for a Teen Wolf rare pair comment ficathon here:  http://thecivilunrest.livejournal.com/13653.html<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	to touch your wounds

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: Scott/Isaac -- Isaac is extremely ticklish. Scott likes to take advantage of this. (I just want lots of fluff.)  
> Apologies to the prompter for the angst that crept in and for not really having very much fluff.

Being a werewolf hurts.

It’s not just the cuts and bruises, the gashes and broken bones from fighting another werewolf. It’s not just the shifting of flesh and cartilage or the piercing of your own claws as they emerge from your fingertips, your toes.

Sometimes, _sometimes_ , with special people, it’s also the ache of their sadness that you feel as if it were your own, the sick heaviness in the pit of your stomach because of their fear or despair or loneliness. Scott can’t pinpoint the exact moment that Isaac became one of those special people, but he knows that he is because Isaac is standing in his doorway, dripping wet and asking if he can stay with Scott and his mom for a while, and Scott is _hurting_. He feels Isaac’s anguish like a knife in his gut.

He lets Isaac tell him what happened with Derek, he puts his arm around Isaac’s shoulder and squeezes and tells him that he can stay as long as he likes, but it still hurts. He gets Isaac some dry clothes and points him in the direction of the bathroom, and when Isaac returns, his face red from the heat of his shower (or from the crying he did there that they both pretend Scott didn’t hear), the ache is better, if not completely gone.

As Scott passes Isaac on his way to the bathroom to get his own shower, Isaac gives Scott a small smile, nods, and says, “Thanks again for this, for letting me stay here.”

“Dude. No problem,” Scott says, then frowns when he notices a quarter-sized hole in the armpit of the t-shirt he’d loaned Isaac. “Sorry about the crappy shirt. You can get another one if you want, dig around in the closet and take what you want.” Isaac’s head tilts in confusion, so Scott reaches out and pokes his forefinger through the hole in the shirt and wiggles it around. “Big old hole, see?”

Isaac tenses and flinches away so fast that it startles Scott, and he kind of wants to smack himself. He knows about Isaac’s past, knows that he probably has major issues with people touching him without warning and consent; he should have known better. Fighting is one thing – obviously Isaac doesn’t give permission for his opponent in a fight to whale on him and he gives back as good as he gets – but a sudden touch to a vulnerable area in a quiet, peaceful setting is probably not exactly welcome.

Scott is opening his mouth to apologize when he glances up and sees Isaac’s face. The corners of his mouth are turned up and Isaac seems to actually be fighting back a grin. That’s when Scott feels it. There’s a barely noticeable lightening of Isaac’s mood; it’s a small improvement – tiny really – but it’s there, this little bubble of relief and Scott wonders how big he can make that bubble get before it pops.

“Nooo waaaay,” he says, and then experimentally pokes his finger in the hole again and wiggles it around, this time scritch-scratching Isaac’s armpit with purpose. A snort erupts from Isaac and his mouth opens into an actual smile. “You’re ticklish!?”

“No, no,” Isaac protests, but he’s almost laughing now. “Not at all. You just caught me off...” Scott doesn’t even let him finish the sentence. He can feel it, he can _smell_ it. Isaac is more relaxed, happier. He’s comfortable and that’s all the permission Scott needs. He dives into Isaac’s body then, his hands scrabble at the t-shirt and in an instant the fabric is pushed up and Scott’s fingers are wiggling against Isaac’s sides, squirming up into his armpits and back down and Isaac is bent over and convulsed with silent laughter.

Isaac suddenly decides to fight back and then his hands are under Scott’s shirt returning tickle for tickle, but Scott leans back, grins and says, “Ha! Not ticklish, man,” and dives back in. Scott’s fingers continue to torment until Isaac has collapsed onto the floor, Scott lying heavily on top of him, and Isaac is wheezing out a noise that sounds like ‘uncle, uncle, uncle’.

Isaac is happy; as happy as he _can_ be right now, anyway and that’s good enough for Scott. He grins down at Isaac for a minute then stands, grabs Isaac’s hand and hauls him up. Slapping Isaac on the back as he heads to the shower, Scott calls out, “Left side of the bed’s mine, dude. You can have the right,” and he feels another little surge of something warm and content emanating from Isaac.

Later, both of them lying in the dark in Scott’s bed, Isaac says quietly, “Camden used to do that to me, like, all the time. He could get me to do anything from taking out the trash to singing Jingle Bells at the top of my lungs in the library – in the middle of summer, too – until the librarian chased me out.” Scott feels a little flash of sadness and longing from Isaac, but he can hear the smile in Isaac’s voice, too. He grins, a little sleepily now, in the dark and reaches over to lightly pinch Isaac’s side and Isaac snorts again and pushes his hand away.

Reaching up, Scott threads his fingers through Isaac’s hair, and lazily scritches Isaac’s scalp. He can feel as much as hear the content, rumbling, ‘Mmmm’ that comes from Isaac and it fills Scott with a sense of rightness, a feeling of purpose. As he’s drifting off to sleep, Scott wonders if this is what being someone’s alpha feels like.


End file.
